


Water Cooler

by orphan_account



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Dirty Jokes, Dirty Talk, Gen, Gossip, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Sex Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 07:59:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turns out vehicons talk amongst themselves. Who knew?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Water Cooler

**Author's Note:**

> It's kinda-sorta gen ish, but as a heads up I'd check the tags.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Decepticon Troopers 342, 8787 and 108 were having a well-deserved break. According to them at least.

The energon was sweet, which was good. The Autobots had been interrupting the mining efforts, from what Miner 55 told 8787 the other day, and 8787 had nodded with sympathy and passed the news on. So when word got out that the miners had finally managed to scrounge some, they’d all sighed with relief.

Now they relaxed, off duty for the first time in ages, munching on energon and catching up on gossip.

 “No, no I’m serious, she was on the ship –“

8787 whistled. “Again? Scrap, I didn’t hear about that.”

“Yeah, I _saw_ her.”

342 scoffed. “No way, you can’t have seen her. You’re alive.” 

108 was insistent, wringing his servos. “Knock Out had to patch me up for like, a week afterwards but yeah, I survived. 66 didn’t though.”

8787 put his head in his hands. “66’s dead? I didn’t hear about that.”

“It happened so fast, she just came from nowhere and bang bang! I was on my back, barely able to aim my blaster and 66 – just, didn’t have a head anymore.”

342 was still skeptical, crossing his arms. “And she just happened to leave you alive?”

“I think she was in a hurry.”

8787 leaned forward. “How’d they get her off?”

“Soundwave.”

There was a beat, before all three of them looked over their shoulders, half-expecting to see Soundwave standing there. Silently. No other explanation of how the Autobot had gotten off the ship was necessary – only Soundwave.

“It’s always the quiet ones,” said 8787 in a hushed voice.

“What d’you mean by that?” asked 342.

“You ever see _that one_ in action? Bumblebee?”

108 shivered. “Thank Primus, no.” 

342 vented impatiently. “Are you listening to yourselves? What’s so scary about Bumblebee? He’s bright yellow!”

“Optimus Prime’s bright red,” said 108.

“Oh please, that’s not the same thing at all.” 

8787 stood up. “No no, ‘oh-eight’s right, the Autobots only paint themselves in bright colors so you scoff at them. Then blam! You’ve got a hole through your transistor the size of Breakdown.”

342 pulled him down. “Calm down, glitchy.”

“Big as Breakdown.” 108 stiffled a giggle. “I wonder how big Breakdown is.”

“What, like 30 feet or something?”

108’s visor flickered. “No, I mean how _big_ Breakdown is. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh-eight!” 8787 seemed practically indignant.

342 let out a guffaw. “Big enough to please the doc.”

8787 tried to stifle a laugh and promptly pretended he hadn’t done so.  “Guys, shush! You never know who’s listening.” He looked over his shoulder again, hoping that Soundwave still wasn’t around to record and report that.

 _That_ mech was nowhere in sight.

342 waved a hand at the nervous vehicon. “ _He_ doesn’t care.  Just don’t say the boss’s name and he just files it away.”

108 nudged 342 with his elbow joint. “That’s not why double-87’s all riled up. The big bot makes his spark get fluttery.”

“He does not!”

“Does too.” 

“Does not!” 

“Does too!”

“Says who?”

“Says you when you service yourself at night.”

342 started to laugh and couldn’t stop, making 108 giggle along. 8787 folded his arms and turned away, making a show of sulking to hide his embarrassment.

“At least he cares about us vehicons. You ever have anybody else say ‘hello’? ‘How are you? Still not dead?’”

“Starscream?” 108 suggested. 

342 stopped laughing. “No. Never. He murdered 95.”

“What? No way, when?” 

“Ages ago. Heard he sucked the energon right out of him when they found another one of those doohickeys they get all obsessed about.”

108 groaned and 8787 semi-sarcastically patted him on the shoulder. “There there, 108. Pretend you didn’t hear it and you can still keep kissing his heels in your stasis-naps.”

108 batted his servo away. “Shut up!” 

“You started it.” 

342 tilted his head. “You have a thing for Starscream?” 

“Are you kidding me, have you _seen_ those legs?”

“I’d still take Breakdown over him any orn.”

108 glared at 8787. “Shut up, double-glitch-seven.” 

342 thought about it. “Starscream’s got a good chassis. Still wouldn’t touch him after what he did to 95.” 

8787 sighed. “It’s not like any of the forged would even _consider_ one of us even if you did.”

There were three simultaneous droops of shoulders. The officers were unobtainable even if all the vehicons didn’t look the same. This was an undisputable and incredibly depressing fact, and none of them were particularly pleased at being reminded of it.

“Sooner clang an Autobot,” said 342, earning a light smack from 8787. “Ow! What, it’s true - you _know_ Knock Out would.”

“He would,” agreed 108.

“You can’t just _say_ that though,” said 8787.

108 would have gotten a dreamy look in his visor if it were possible to get a dreamy look in visor. “I wonder if he’d, well, _you know_ , us. He seems easy.” 

“He seems dangerous, bet he’s into pain,” said 342. 

“No way! If anyone’s into pain, it’s the boss,” said 8787. A reflexive look over his shoulder, yet again, being careful not to say That Name.

108 sat up a bit straighter. “Would you?”

“What?”

“If _he_ asked you to, would you interface with him, pain or not?”

342 felt his engine hiccup. “Spark, it’s Megatron, it wouldn’t be like you’d have a choice.”

Before 8787 had time to squeal and tell him to shut up, there was a very curious sound from above them. They all looked up at the ceiling, where a certain metal bird detached itself.

They watched Laserbeak fly off, sinking feelings in their sparks.

“Scrap.” 

They all looked at each other.

“Break time’s over.”

“Yup.”

“Yes.” 

And then they scrambled to get back to work before Laserbeak reached his master. Who knows what the faceless Decepticon would think of their conversation, but none of them wanted to find out.

“Until next time?" 

“Always!”

“If we’re still alive.”


End file.
